The Many Faces of a Southern Belle
by Indigo-Night-Wisp
Summary: "Who the devil are you?"     "Well now," she drawled. "That depends on who you're askin'."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: My name is Indy. Or Ash. Or something that I would tell ya'll, except this is the internet. Maybe later. The point is, my name ain't Stan Lee, or whoever created the X-Men.**

**A/N: You know how when I posted my first fic I had this great gonna-keep-ontrack-by-not-writing-any-fics-I-haven't-already-handwritten-until-the-big-one's-done plan? Yeah, that went flying out the window headfirst when a little something called **_**inspiration **_**came up and smacked me in the face. I'm talkin' plot, characters, dialogue, title, chapters, the whole shebang. The thing's practically already written itself, so I just have to type it up.**

_**It's a ROMY t'ough, so y' can' be too upset 'bout it.**_

**I'm not upset about it. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty darn proud of this story. I just wish I was done with Social Status. But, then again, I don't want the idea to fade, so I guess it's better if I just get it up now while it's still fresh.**

_**Tha's roight, Sheila, gotta keep it fresh.**_

_**Ash.**_

_**Ooooo, lemme guess. "Ash, Shut up.**_

_**How'd y' know?**_

_**It's a ratha prevailin' theme from ya, luv.**_

**Hush you two, and lemme get on with the fic.**

**

* * *

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Prologue: May I Present...

* * *

"Chere?"

She turned her head and said, "Yeah, sugah?" rather absentmindedly.

"Can I ask y' a question?"

Now he had her full attention. He never used first person unless he was completely serious. Her heart started beating a little faster. Was he-? Maybe he was gonna…

Carefully keeping her facial expression under control she answered, "Yee-esss."

He took a deep breath and her heart rate climbed again.

"What's y'r name?"

Okay, she wasn't expecting that one. She let out a breath she never would've guessed she was holding and tried to keep the disappointment from both her face and her voice as she answered, "Why do ya wanna know, sugah?"

"Do I need a reason t' know, chere?"

She studied him. He looked absolutely serious, and then there was the first person thing. And of course, the fact that they'd known each other for six years and been dating for four and she still had yet to tell him her real name was a factor…

Thinking she wasn't going to answer, he sighed and looked away. They were sitting in the rec-room with the Institute's other inhabitants, watching a movie. Well, some of them were watching a movie. Remy himself was watching her, and he could see Kurt's tail tracing patterns on Kitty's stomach, while she ran her fingers through the fur on his neck. Jubilee and Bobby were holding hands, and _mostly_ watching the movie. Sort of.

"Marie," she said quietly.

He turned to look at her, his red and black eyes lighting up as he processed the fact that she'd actually answered his question.

"Marie?"

She nodded. "Yeah. My name is Marie."

He gave her a bright, exuberant smile. She smiled back tentatively, and he took advantage of her uncertainty to reach out and lift her onto his lap. Ignoring her quiet protests, he cuddled her against him and simply held her until she relaxed with a sigh of contentment. They didn't exactly watch the movie, but they enjoyed each other's presence and basked in the love they shared as the evening drew to a close.

* * *

"Hey, chere?"

"What?"

"Y' wanna go out later?"

Shooting him an exasperated glare as she dove out of the way of a flying robot arm, severed compliments of Remy's charged three of clubs, Rogue answered sarcastically.

"Sure, thang, sugah. Let's go out latah. Although, if ya don' getcha mind offa latah an' inta now, we might be spendin' 'latah' in the Med-Bay!"

Smirking at his fiery Southern belle, Remy charged up three more cards and let them fly into the metal arm about to catch her in its grasp. The explosion knocked her flying, and he offered his hand to her as he passed by.

"Chere, chere, chere," he teased in mock disapproval. "Y' really should getcha mind on now instead o' later!"

Scowling at him, she ignored his hand and shot into the air. Using her super-strength, she punched straight through the eye of one of the robots and it promptly short-circuited.

Floating down to join her boyfriend, she rolled her eyes as the simulation shut down. Apparently, the session was over.

* * *

"So, chere," Remy said easily as they left the Danger Room with the group. "How 'bout we go somewhere where we can get some good, Southern food-"

"Forget it, Swamp Rat!" She yelled. "Ah changed mah mahnd. We ain't goin' out t'naght afta ya went an' ticked me off!"

A few students watched, some shocked and others slightly amused as Rogue laid into Remy with a fierce scolding. He bore it patiently, quietly shuffling his cards as she ranted. When she finally ran out of breath, he said, just to clarify: "So, y' don' wanna go out t'nigh'?"

Rolling her eyes she snapped, "No, Ah jus' yelled at ya for ten minutes fo' the fun o' it. O' course Ah still wanna go out."

An amused light entered his eyes and he said, "Well? Which is it? 'Cause y're sendin' Remy mixed mess'ges, chere, an' he's no' sure if he be interpretin' dem right."

Fuming, she stared at him, willing herself not to punch the love of her life through the metal doors behind him. Why is it that he could always get her riled up? He knew the _exact_ thing that would set her off, and if he set his mind to it, he would have her so angry she could hardly see straight in a matter of minutes.

Realizing that the teasing had run its course, Remy dropped his smirk and grabbed her hands, tugging her to him and whispering for her ears only.

"Desole, ma cherie. Shouldn' have teased y'. Remy understan's if y' wan' him t' leave y' 'lone righ' now, but y' should know dat y' tres belle when y' mad."

She stared at him, relaxing despite herself as he rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs. He really did look sincerely apologetic, and she was aware that Remy seemed to think that she was beautiful when angry. He'd told her so many times.

His voice dropped even lower as he said, "De trut' is, I wanted t' ask y' somet'in. Alone. Privately."

_First person_. Her heartbeat quickened. Why did he have this much affect on her circulatory system? Surely that wasn't natural.

His eyes were pleading. Dang those eyes. Stupid, horrible, lovely, sexy _puppy dog_ eyes. How did he pull _that_ off?

"Sil vous plait?"

He heard her breathing quicken. Pleased that he could have this kind of effect on her without using his hypnotic charm at all, he pulled his trump card.

"Marie?"

She closed her eyes and he knew he'd won.

* * *

"Ya said ya wanted to ask me somethin'," she reminded him as they left the restaurant. He smiled at her.

"So, I did, chere." Glancing around, he pulled her a little to the side and stood with her underneath a nearby tree.

Watching him, she was amused to see him take a deep breath before turning to face her. Was he nervous?

"I love y', chere," he informed her suddenly. She blinked. Okay. She knew that already.

"I love y'," he continued, "An' I want t' ask y' a very importan' question."

He knelt, and Rogue felt her face heat up slightly as several passers-by stopped to watch.

"Marie." He said her name carefully, as if to be sure he'd get it right. "Will you marry me, Marie?"

For a moment, she could only stare at him speechless as he pulled out a ring from somewhere in that Mary Poppins trench coat of his and held it up to her. The watching strangers held their breath as she gazed at him. He shifted a little, the ground hard against his knees.

Rogue snapped out of whatever trance she had been in and let out a whoop. "Heck, _yeah!_" Tackling him to the ground and placing a decisive kiss on his willing lips, she laughed in sheer delight.

Chuckling, he rolled over and helped her to her feet. "Well, dat went well," he observed cheekily. She mock glared at him. "Took ya long enough, sugah."

He grinned. "Yeah, well. Remy wanted t' know 'xac'ly who he was pledgin' t' spend de res' of his life wit' before he proposed."

Her eyes widened in realization. "_Ohhh,_ so _that's _why you wanted to know my name the other day!"

He kissed her again. The watchers were looking at them a little strangely now. What kind of guy proposes to a girl he just learned the name of?

* * *

"Oh, Rogue, you look so gorgeous!" Kitty squealed as she adjusted Rogue's skirt for the final time.

Rogue snorted and watched with a raised eyebrow as Kitty skipped around the room happily. In thirty minutes, she was going to marry the most wonderful man in the world, and she just couldn't help but find it hilarious that Kitty seemed more excited about it than she was. Seriously, aside from the fact that getting married meant that Remy was hers, and hers alone, getting married was just the next step in their relationship. Mostly, it meant that she and Remy could share a room now.

* * *

"Do you, Remy Etienne LeBeau, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love and to cherish, to honor and protect, to have and to hold, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Do you, Marie Howlett, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and to cherish, to honor and protect, to have and to hold, for as long as you both shall live?"

"Ah do."

"I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

He raised her veil and kissed her forehead. The crowd was stunned and she raised an eyebrow. He kissed that too, and grinned at her. Gently kissing each eyebrow, each eye, both cheeks and her nose twice just because he could, he finally turned his attention to her lips and gave them their due.

"May I present, Mr. and Mrs. LeBeau."

* * *

At the reception, Kitty approached curiously.

"Your name is Marie?"

Marie gave her a look. "Mah name is Rogue."

Remy stifled the urge to gloat as Kitty backed off quickly. Only he was allowed to call her by her name. It was special. They might all know it now, but heaven help them if they ever used it without her permission. Except him. He could use it whenever he wanted.

* * *

"Can we go, chere?" he whined quietly. She chuckled and patted his arm.

"Don' worry, sugah. It won't be long now."

"Bon." His voice became husky. "'Cause y' know how much I wanna show y' 'roun' Louisiana. N' Awlin's is real pretty dis time a year."

She shivered. "C'mon, Kit, where are ya when Ah need ya?" Searching the crowd, and finally finding her friend, she waved her over.

Kitty came up with Kurt in tow. Wanda and John came bounding up a second later. The couple's official send off was about to begin.

Logan kissed his adopted daughter's forehead and slapped Remy on the back. Professor Xavier smiled and wished them a happy honeymoon. Tabby made a few innuendos that failed to ruffle Rogue and caused a thoughtful smirk to appear on Remy's face. Kurt hugged his sister and playfully slugged his friend in the shoulder.

"Take care of mein schwester, you hear?"

Remy grinned. "I will, mon ami."

Rogue groaned good naturedly as Kitty positioned her in front of the crowd of girls. Holding her bouquet of… some kind of flower she didn't really know the name of, she turned her back to them and narrowed her eyes. Remy stood in front of her and through a series of complicated eye twitches, communicated to her the location of exactly the right person. She tossed.

It dropped right into Wanda's hands, to her chagrin.

"You did that on purpose, Rogue!" She protested. "And Remy, you helped her!"

They grinned, unrepentant.

John sidled up and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Awww, anyone would think ya don' _want _ta get married, luv."

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Johnny."

"Make me, luv," he replied cheekily.

She shot him an amused glance before hexing his mouth shut. He pouted.

Rogue and Remy were trying not to fidget as they finally made it out to the car waiting to take them to the airport. They climbed into the backseat with sighs of relief, and promptly fell asleep during the ride, holding each other.

* * *

The house, _their _house, was lovely. A gift from his family, settled in a very cozy spot in Louisiana, it was the perfect place. They weren't quite sure what they were planning on doing about living arrangements, but they figured that if they split their time between Louisiana and New York, everyone would be happy, and they could have the best of both.

He kissed her. Softly, slowly, gently. Taking her hand, he led her to the bedroom. Spinning her around, letting her dress flare out to compliment her every angle, he kissed her again. She drank him in, his scent, his taste, every bit of him. She was married. He was hers. She was his. She smiled against his mouth.

The sound of breaking glass drew their attention then. Frowning, they moved by unspoken agreement to investigate. Venturing out to the living room, they never even saw the shadows until it was too late.

* * *

Rogue came to alone. She was completely uninjured, but Remy was gone. Panic set in momentarily, then she came to her senses and scrambled for her phone. Explaining the situation to Logan, she hurriedly gave him directions to the house, then hung up and went to change her clothes. Her X-Men uniform was at the mansion; neither she nor Remy had thought that they would be needing their suits on their honeymoon.

Dressed in jeans and a shirt of Remy's, she paced back and forth until the Blackbird touched down.

Logan scowled as he tried and failed to pick up a scent. Charles frowned in concerned frustration as he tried (and failed) to track Remy through Cerebro. Rogue stretched the empathic link she'd made with Remy from absorbing him so much back when she couldn't touch him. She couldn't find a trace of him anywhere near the vicinity. He was gone.

She didn't return to the Institute with them. Instead, she stayed by herself in her little honeymoon house in Louisiana. She kept to herself. Got a job to pass the time, called the Institute every few weeks. Wanda and John and Kitty and Kurt came down twice, but when she asked them not to come again for awhile, they respected her wishes and let her be, themselves dealing with their friend's disappearance.

They tried and tried. Every time Rogue made contact, Jean and the Professor tried to find Remy on Cerebro, but it was no use. He wasn't using his powers, and he wasn't attempting to make contact psychically. There was simply no trace of Remy LeBeau.

**

* * *

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A/N: In this, Rogue can touch only Remy. I don't care how, Make up an explanation. She just can. And she used to not be able to. I hope that made sense to you, 'cause most of it was total gibberish to me.

**And also, Rogue has Ms. Marvel's powers if that wasn't obvious. And her "uniform" looks like the one from the 90's show, 'cause I like it better than the Evo version.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't wanna come up with something, wanna write the story!**

**A/N: Anybody see that coming last chapter? No? Bet ya didn't. Bet ya thought this was gonna be another cute li'l ROMY story, lots of fluff, and no action.**

**Well, yeah, mostly that's true. Mostly. **

**HA! NO! There will be action!**

**But first there will be lots of fluffy probably.**

**And you start reading… now!**

**WAIT!**

_**Y' jus' can' go wit'ou' doin' dat at leas' once per story can y'?**_

**What? This chapter is sad! It keeps me from crying as I write it!**

_**Sure it does, Sheila. When was the last toime ya croied during wroitin' or readin' a fic?**_

**Uhh, reading "Sakura Yume" 39****th**** chapter.**

_**Oh.**_

**Would you two be quiet? You honestly get me into sooo much trouble. I had to go shopping for school clothes recently, and I was reeeealy bored. I wanted to go home and write. So did Indy and Ashy. So we started talking, and I got so many weird looks that day, you'd think I was acting crazy or something!**

**And now I'm Rambling. Shutting up.**

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Chapter 1: Marie

* * *

She woke up and got out of bed. She got dressed. She didn't eat breakfast. She straightened her hair as straight as it would get, and applied the darkest makeup a twenty-three year old could get away with. She put on her gloves. She left the house walking. She walked into the small town and straight to the tiny music store. She slid in behind the counter and slipped her headphones on. Angry rock filled her ears and she relaxed the teeniest bit.

A customer entered and picked out a few things. She rang them up silently, watching as they left her sanctuary. She switched her music selection to country. Mississippi roots don't come up easy.

She took her lunch break at exactly 11:22. She wasn't sure why she'd picked such a nonsensical time, so easy to forget, or slip past, but she had. It brought her some sort of obscure pleasure to be that little bit of difficult. Probably a Rogue thing. Also, he'd always enjoyed being difficult with her.

She changed the music to classical an hour before quitting time.

* * *

She went home, sat on her porch and seemingly stared at the sky for a few hours. She ate a very small dinner, then went up to bed.

Her normal routine for the last six months was complete. Occasionally, she would break, and go for a flight. Or, she would go pick a fight with a gator. That was always fun.

* * *

She'd cried for ages. She'd curl up in his trench coat which he had packed in his bag for the trip. She'd breath in the smell of him, still not faded after months without him there to sustain it, and she'd cry. She cried her eyes out, wanting him. He'd been there for so long, she'd forgotten what it was like to live without him. She decided that she didn't like being reminded. So she had stopped crying, for the most part. Granted, she had a habit of wearing his shirts all the time, and hugging his trench coat at night, but she didn't break down at the least little thing anymore. She'd begun to take back herself. She got angry, angry at whoever had ruined her wedding night, and deprived her of the love of her life.

Marie wasn't depressed. The X-Men all thought she was, but she wasn't really. Her hours of meaningless sky-gazing were actually filled with attempting to find Remy through their empathic link. She refused to believe he was dead. She could feel his life force. She just couldn't get a read on his location. She wasn't _depressed_, she was trying to find her husband! She'd come home when he did, and she wasn't going to go to counseling or some other such stupid thing. She didn't need _counseling,_ she needed Remy, dang it!

And she would get him back. Someday.

* * *

She awoke in a cold sweat on his twenty-sixth birthday. They'd been married for six and a half months, and they'd gotten to enjoy about twenty minutes of it. The wedding reception didn't count. It wasn't exactly enjoyable when all she wanted to do was be alone with her Cajun. And she'd gotten that.

For twenty minutes.

She hated that. A lot.

Her nightmare came back to her with an insensible amount of fear. Strapped to a table, having bright lights shined in her eyes, why did it hurt so bad? It was just a light. Her eyes weren't that light sensitive. She couldn't move, couldn't get up, couldn't do anything but try not to scream and fail because, the Devil take it, she _hurt_! Pain, everywhere, aching, both physical and mental. Physically, she was being shocked electrically, and having her eyes poked (what was up with her _eyes_?). Mentally, struggling, hoping that someone would hear her cry for help and come. Praying, praying so hard that _**she **_was alright, and that she would see _**her**_ again… see **her** belle green eyes, watch them flash when she made **her** mad, play with **her** hair, **her** lovely, curling hair that only she got to see… wait.

Her eyes widened. Her green eyes. Her non-sensitive eyes.

She wasn't having a nightmare. She was living Remy's waking one. He was hurt, needing help and he needed her. Where…

She got a flash, a brief image that gave her chills, of a sickly looking man with a bald head who was wearing a lab coat. He smiled. She didn't like his smile. That smile meant pain. A thought ran through her mind: coordinates. She needed coordinates. And probably back-up as well.

The X-Men.

Marie smiled. This smile was fierce. This smile meant danger.

Heads were going to roll.

* * *

She flew out the next day dressed in her uniform. She'd had both of theirs shipped to her a few months ago.

New York was only hours away. She would take a break halfway there. And then she'd be on her way. On her way to the X-Men, where she belonged.

And on her way to Remy's side, where she was supposed to be.

**

* * *

**

A/N: Here we go people.

**Marie is mad. Really mad. And just for the record? Her name is Rogue to everyone except for Remy. He is the only one who ever called her that, and even her nametag at work read "Rogue." That is her name unless you're Remy.**

_**Le's go, people!**_

_**Fo' once, Indy agrees wit' de garcon. Let's go! Nex' chapter!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: You know what I think? I think you're all too hung up on **_**ownership**_**. I mean, who **_**cares**_** who owns it? Well, I suppose MARVEL might care, seeing as how they actually **_**do**_** own it.**

**A/N: Part 3. **

**FTR: Some new people have come to the Institute. This is set post-Apocalypse, and the Acolytes and the Brotherhood have moved into the mansion. (Mainly because I don't want to have to come up with a reason for Wanda and Johnny to be there, but that's really beside the point.) We also have Tabby back, and anyone of the New Mutants that left. And Emma. Mustn't forget Emma. Hehe.**

**And now… we shall go on.**

"_**Finally!"**_

**Shush, you two. I'm trying to type.**

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Chapter 2: Rogue

* * *

She flew, her auburn hair flying out behind her like a battle flag, her white streaks teasing her face. She radioed the mansion about a minute before she landed, just to give them a heads up.

* * *

Inside the mansion, in the living room to be exact, Kurt and Logan's heads shot up at the same time.

"What is it?" Kitty asked, knowing the two feral mutants had smelled or heard something.

"It's- Rogue?" they exclaimed at the, same time.

"What? Really? Why is she here? Is she close? Duh, Kit, she must be close or they wouldn't have smelled her! I bet she's out there right now!"

The mansion's occupants got excited along with her, and followed her out into the foyer.

Kitty skipped forward, intent on opening the door for her friend, but before she got within ten feet of it, it was kicked open with a loud crash, and a livid, fiery eyed Southern belle strode through.

"Someone betta be on Cerebro when Ah get down there!" she screamed, both mentally and vocally. The gathered mutants cringed at her shriek, but Kitty pulled herself together with remarkable speed and squealed.

"Rogue!"

"Hey, Kitty," her friend replied with a slight smile. She gave the twenty-two year old a hug, then continued on.

"Hey, Rogue-"

"Not_ now_, Kit! Gotta do somethin'. PROFESSAH!"

The unexpected yell caused a few yelps, then Rogue was gone, disappearing into the lower levels of the mansion. Her friends exchanged looks before following after her.

* * *

"I'm sorry," a clipped British accent was saying as Kitty and Kurt rounded the corner, "But you simply cannot enter Cerebro while the Professor is using it!"

Rogue gave her an incredulous look before simply snatching the front of her shirt in a fist and throwing her out of the way. She continued on, Cerebro's doors opening as the Professor recognized her psychic signature from inside.

* * *

Emma groaned from her place on the couch in the living room. Logan shook his head. Speaking with personal experience from crossing Rogue, that _had_ to have hurt.

He watched in slight amusement as Kurt and his girlfriend stood over Emma like commentators. The little jokers were entertaining the crowd of mutants without even realizing it. They were being totally serious.

Kurt glanced at Kitty and said, "Vell?"

Kitty looked thoughtful. "Hm. Well, in Emma's defense, she's never met Rogue. She doesn't really know what Rogue is like."

Kurt nodded musingly. "Mm-hm. Und against?"

Kitty exploded. "Hel-lo! We have like, totally told her all about Rogue! She _sooo _should have known better!"

Kurt nodded again solemnly. "Mein thoughts exactly, Katzchen."

* * *

"Hello, Rogue."

The professor's voice was kind, and genuinely sounded pleased to see her. If he was even a bit irritated by the fact she'd just thrown one of his telepaths through a wall, he didn't show it.

"Ah know where he is," she blurted. "At least, Ah think Ah do."

Xavier didn't need to ask who _he_ was. He simply turned to her and said, "Where?"

She twisted her gloved hands. "Well, Ah- Ah don' 'xactly _know_ know. Ah jus'- Ah had a nahghtmare. Except that it was Remy's reality. What he was feeling, seeing, thinking, so was Ah."

Xavier looked intrigued. "How is that possible?"

She hunched her shoulders. "Ah-uh, Ah kinda have an empathic link wit' him. Think it's from absorbin' him so much in the past. Ah know what he's feelin', an' sorta know his thoughts, if they're emotional."

"Fascinating," he mused. "How do you think it will help us though?"

"Ah think if maybe you read mah memories of the images, ya could gather some kinda coordinates. Ah think he was tryin' to send some, but the link failed."

"Well, it's worth a try at least." He motioned her in front of him, then raised his hands to either side of her head to begin reading her thoughts. He was shocked by the level of fear and pain she was feeling from this memory, but pushed past it as best he could. He reached the man with the smile-to Rogue that smile meant pain- and gasped.

"Rogue, do you know who this is?"

Her forehead wrinkled. "Uh, Ah thought he looked familiar, but Ah couldn't place him."

"That's Bolivar Trask."

She gasped. "That _dastard!"_

Xavier turned back to his work, but listened with one amused ear to the rantings and colorful names Rogue was throwing around. Apparently having Remy around for years had had a bigger effect on her vocabulary than he'd thought. Of course, Tabby, John, and Logan had probably helped, but still. Some of those insults and threats had a definite LeBeau feel to them.

He stiffened suddenly.

"I've got them."

* * *

They were gathered in the living room where she'd left them. Kitty, Kurt, Logan, Tabby, Ray, John and Wanda- who'd come running out of the room they were in, straightening things and smoothing hair- as soon as they'd heard she was back. Bobby and Jubilee were bouncing excitedly on the loveseat. Piotr Rasputin sat in the corner with a serious, calm expression on his face. Emma lay on the couch, still grumbling at Rogue's treatment of her. Betsy and Warren had stopped by for a visit and ended up staying, not entirely sure what was going on, but determined not to miss anything more. Jamie was there, bickering with himself, as usual.

And then all conversation stopped as Rogue re-entered the room.

Glancing around, a slight smirk gracing her features as Remy's psyche in her head informed her that, "she still got it." Leaving people speechless by her very presence.

Shaking the thought away- and the images and innuendos that came with it- Rogue stepped into her crowd of friends and waited for total attention.

"We found him."

At that, a collective gasp went up from the assembly, and Johnny eagerly leaped to his feet.

"Where?"

She clenched her fist. "Trask. Trask has him." She waited.

Logan and Kurt let loose almost identical feral snarls. St. John's normally slightly insane, cheerful expression transformed in a heartbeat, matching his lady's for pure, blazing fury. (No pun intended, there were quite literal flames rising in their eyes.) Kitty's streak of violent cursing of Trask in German and Pig Latin, nicely spiced with her own special brand of Valley Girl accent caused a few raised eyebrows, and Xavier, who had come in behind Rogue, was now wondering if he'd have to restrict the young woman's access to the languages. Seeing as most of the curses she probably learned from her boyfriend however, he didn't think that would go down well. But it was Piotr's reaction that was the most surprising.

He growled, an actual growl, worthy of notice from the Wolverine, and stood.

"Vhere?" he repeated.

"Ah've got coordinates," Rogue replied. She took a minute from her hard expression to crack the tiniest wisp of a smile. "Huh. An' here Ah thought Ah was gonna have to _ask_ for volunteers."

Her eyes narrowed. "Here's the plan. We go in, we get Remy, we get out. Everything in between is collateral damage. 'Kay? So who's all comin'?"

Logan stood. Kitty and Kurt were beside her in an instant. She looked around for John and Wanda and wasn't much surprised to find them at her back already. Piotr lumbered up to complete the group.

Tabby's eyes widened. "Ooooooooo… someone's gonna di-ie!"

Logan spared her a second for an amused, frightening grin.

Emma piped up just then. "Wait. I am confused. I mean, obviously Trask is horrible, and I understand why Rogue would want her boyfriend back, but-"

"He ain't mah boyfriend," Rogue interrupted.

"Beg pardon?"

"Remy LeBeau ain't mah boyfriend. An' Ah ain't seen him in six months."

Emma gave a confused smile. "Then… I don't exactly see the urgency… six months…"

And then Emma was hauled off of the couch and slammed into the nearest wall.

"Remy LeBeau is not mah boyfriend. Remy LeBeau is mah _**HUSBAND.**_"

She dropped a stunned White Queen to the floor and strode out the door to the X-Jet without another word, her little band following.

* * *

Tabby whistled. "Whooo-whee. Sure would hate to be Trask."

Emma _still_ wasn't getting it. "Why?"

"'Cause he's an idiot."

"Why?"

Jubilee gave her a pitying look. "Because," she said in the manner of one explaining to a small child. "He kidnapped _Remy. _Rogue's _husband_. On their _wedding night_. "

"Oooooooo! I just realized something! Trask kidnapped _Remy!_ On their _wedding _night!"

They all looked at Jubilee. She rolled her eyes and turned to her boyfriend. "Bobby, honey. If you're not going to follow along with the conversation, could you please keep out of it?"

Sullenly he nodded.

"I do not understand," Betsy spoke up suddenly. "What is all this about the wedding night?"

"Rogue's powers, well some of them, don't allow her to touch. She found out that she can touch Remy, but only after a really long time, and sometimes she slips still. It was their first night together. They did things properly. And then Trask kidnapped him, right as they were beginning their honeymoon."

"Oh!" The purple haired telepath exclaimed. "You all are right. Trask _is _an idiot! How can someone with such a large head be such a pea-brain?"

Tabby shrugged. "Dunno. But does anybody wanna bet that he ain't getting out of this alive? Or at least not awake."

Hands went up. Bets were made. Charles Xavier didn't even put up a front at stopping them. He understood perfectly, for once, their betting pools. Trask was sooooo dead meat.

**

* * *

**

A/N: Soo, just wanna say, I like Emma, really. But Jean wouldn't work here, and I like Betsy even more than Emma so…. Yeah. I've noticed that as a general rule with X-Men, telepaths tend to be pretty oblivious. So I thought I'd play with that a bit.

_**Alroight, already, stop playin' an' get tat ha nex' part!**_

_**Ashy, y' bein' bossy.**_

_**Yeah well, someone aughta do it, otha than you! **_

_**Y' take dat back!**_

_**No!**_

***and now there are purple hexes flying through the air, and weirdly shaped blobs of air doing dances***

**Indy, leave him in this dimension please this time? Or at least somewhere you can get to him easily? I'm gonna need him soon.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I-I-I knoooow yoooooou, I walked with you once, upon a dreeeeeeeeam!**

**A/N: Oh my gosh, you guys, I am soooooooo sorry. Both of our computers went out on us, and I couldn't get to one all weekend once we did get one of them fixed, so this chapter is really really late, and I'm so sorry again. Whew. Glad to get that off of my chest.**

**Part four, and final part I believe.**

**For once, this author's note is short. Yay me.**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 3: Mrs. LeBeau

* * *

Bolivar Trask rubbed his hands together briskly. Somehow, the action made him feel slightly ridiculous, but he ignored the feeling and continued walking down the hallways of his laboratory. The white walls had seemed clichéd when he'd arranged for them, but he really couldn't help himself. The mutants needed to be restrained, to be tested. If he, the savior of mankind, wished to indulge in some stereotypical lab settings, who were _they_ to judge him?

He paused before a metal door and entered a pass code into a keypad. The door slid open, and he smiled cruelly as the mutant inside flung himself at the opening. Obviously, he'd already forgotten what happened last time he tried that, and he crashed into the force field and reeled back, electric shocks stinging his body.

Trask gave him a condescending look from where he stood just outside the cell.

"Really, I'd think you'd have learned by now."

Red eyes glared at him balefully, and despite the assurance of the power suppressor collar and the force field, Trask shivered a little. Those eyes were the mark of the devil, surely, and even if Trask himself wasn't terribly religious, he just barely stopped from crossing himself every time those furious, fire pits on a black background bored into him.

The mutant muttered something in a foreign language.

"Eh? What was that?"

The twenty-six year old man repeated himself, louder, and- if possible –with even more venom in his tone.

Trask gave an annoyed grunt. French had never been his strong suit.

"English please, Mr. LeBeau. Let's not be rude."

He said it in English.

* * *

Trask stepped away from the doorway to allow his… _associates _to pass through. He looked past them into the cell and chuckled smugly. The mutant was crumpled on the concrete floor, holding his head and trying with all the strength that he had left not to make a sound. He was bleeding from the ears, and his face was already beginning to show signs of the serious beating he'd just received.

"And that, Mr. LeBeau, is why you are in the cell, and I am not. I am in control here, not you. Your precious powers are useless in my domain, and my followers have you well in hand. You- what?"

The mutant was _laughing_. He said something in French, and Trask scowled.

"Are we really going to do this again?"

The red-eyed Cajun gasped for breath as his cracked rib protested his mirth.

"Gambit said, y' soun' like de villains out o' dose Disney films dat petites watch."

Trask shifted uncomfortably, suddenly understanding his earlier discomfort with the hands thing. He pressed his lips together.

"Because I need you in passably good condition tomorrow, I am going to let that remark slide. Enjoy it while it lasts; rest assured, it won't happen twice."

He stalked away, letting the metal door swoosh shut behind him.

* * *

"Mutant 17 (1) is highly volatile right now, sir. Are you sure-"

"Yes, yes. I told you, the more unstable the better. I'm trying to assess the reactions to pain under extreme mental duress."

"Alright sir," the reluctant aide replied. "Do you want him sedated?"

"No. Just restrained."

"Will do, sir."

Trask turned back to the viewing window that looked into the testing room. A woman in a white coat was busily cleaning the metal table and arranging the instruments.

"Monsieur LeBeau, I'll break you yet," he whispered.

* * *

The X-Jet was silent as Logan flew to the coordinates the Professor had gleaned from Rogue's mind. Kurt and Kitty were somewhat gleefully comparing ideas on how to make what little remained of Trask's life a living hell, and Wanda was attempting to keep John calm enough to ensure that he wasn't going to burn the whole cabin. Piotr was muttering to himself in Russian, and occasionally interjecting a thought or comment into Kitty and Kurt's conversation.

Rogue was ticked. Fuming actually. She'd been silent for most of the trip, but now, she was psyching herself up. Not that it was hard. She only had to think about "Trask" and "Remy" and "_experiments_" in the same thought pattern and her blood started boiling.

"Ah think Ah'm gonna kill him," she announced to the cabin. She glared at them fiercely, daring them to contradict her, to tell her that she couldn't kill him because it'd be wrong. Because X-Men don't kill.

Instead, she was faced with John's murmured, "Not if Oi kill 'im first," Wanda's approving glance, Logan's snort of agreement, Piotr's impassive face, Kurt's I-really-couldn't-care-less- shrug, and Kitty's always-ever-so-eloquent, "Well, DUH!"

Slightly shocked, she nevertheless fixed her face in a determined scowl and nodded shortly.

* * *

Trask was rubbing his hands together again. He wasn't in the lab this time, of course, but still, a little harmless indulgence never hurt anyone. Who cared what the mutant thought anyway? He was disposable. Or he would be as soon as those idiots down in Capture and Confine got on the ball and started actually putting their backs into their jobs.

He stepped briskly into the front lobby. It looked rather homey, he liked to think. It wasn't carpeted, true, but it was clean, and neat, and the floors were of a solid maple as opposed to while tile. The rugs were a nice touch. There was a nice desk and a few couches for visitors from the government to sit on while he kept them waiting- uh, while he finished his _extremely _important experiments.

Yes, he thought he'd done rather well with the place. And those wooden doors were quite lovely too-

His train of thought derailed as afore-mentioned doors were kicked open and a slight woman with auburn and white-streaked hair strode through them.

"Well, well, well, look at the décor. Not what Ah'd expect from a mad scientist, but hey, your place."

Finally, he found his voice.

"Who the devil are you?"

She seemed to have been waiting for this question.

"Aww, ya mean ya don't remember me? Wey-al, that's alraght, Ah don't lahke to remembah you either."

"Just who exactly are you?"

She shrugged, her shoulders moving up and down almost lazily.

"Well now, that depends on who you're askin'. Most people, mah friends, they call me Rogue. T' some, a very _small _some, Ah go bah Marie." Her emerald eyes suddenly went hard. "But you," she took a step towards him. "You, Mistah Trask." She stopped and cocked a hip. "You may address me as _Mrs. LeBeau._"

His mouth dropped open, and for a moment, all he could say was, "Oh."

* * *

"No. No, that's impossible."

"Oh, believe me, Trask, it's very possible."

He started sweating.

"Do you know, Mistah Trask, why Ah'm here?"

"Uhhh…"

"Ah am here," she continued-obviously his response was _not _being awaited with bated breath. "To see _someone_ about a little _somethin'_ Ah lahke to call, _payback_."

He swallowed.

"You see Mistah Trask, when your thugs jumped Remy and snatched him from that house in Louisiana, you did something unforgivable." Her face held a snarl. "You. Kidnapped. Mah. _Husband. _On. Our. _Wedding. _Naght."

His eyes got big.

"An'" she purred. "Ah am, understandably, very, very, VERY upset about that!"

Abruptly remembering that he had minions, Trask attempted to re-gain the upper hand.

"You'll never get him out of here. I'll call my guards."

She raised an eyebrow. "Guards? What guards?"

A black-and-scarlet-haired head poked itself into the room and said, "Hey, hon, are you done with him yet? 'Cause the boys are all finished with those guys who thought they could take 'em and my baby's gettin' bored. Honestly, what did those guys think they were, g_uards _or something?"

Trask blanched. The Southerner watched him in poorly concealed contempt and amusement and replied, "Yeah, Scarlet, Ah'm done. For now. Ah jus' need one teensy-weensy bit of information from Mistah Trask here and then he's all yours." She reached out and grabbed his shirt collar, yanking him close and smiling sweetly into his terrified face. "Where. Is. Mah. Cajun?"

He didn't answer fast enough. She turned slightly. "Hey, Scarlet? Go get Wolvie will ya? Tell him Ah want somethin' carved-"

"No! No! I'll tell you, just, oh man, don't, please," she listened to him babble for a very short amount of time before cutting him off.

"Alraght, alraght. Jus' tell me where he is."

"Down the hall, room 17. Pass code is 1-7-5-9."

She patted his cheek. Hard. "Thanks. Scar? You can let them in now." She dropped him unceremoniously and sprinted to the doors leading to the containment units.

* * *

Trask turned fearfully to face the woman dressed entirely in red, whose hands were glowing blue.

"Baby? Come on in here."

An orange-haired mutant came bounding in, followed by a stream of fire, and wearing a look of pure fury mixed with just enough insanity to make Trask's knees start literally knocking.

"A word of advoice? Don' pick on moy mates."

And then Trask found himself running around the lobby, screaming, trying to get away from fiery arrows and blazing dragons. When they finally stopped coming, he turned in triumph to gloat, patting himself frantically to get rid of the burning fragments of what had once been a nice jacket, only to find himself face to face with a very ticked off Wolverine. He actually remembered _him_.

"Guess what, bub? You messed with my family. That boy you got in there? That's my son-in-law. Bad move."

* * *

Trask's bruised body was flung into a wall ten minutes later and he prayed that it was finally over. He lifted his head to find himself alone. Shakily, he got to his feet, leaning on the wall for support, wondering if he could make it out before anybody got "bored" again.

And then she walked through the closed door and came to stand before him.

For the longest time, she simply stood there, not even looking at him. In fact, she was studying her fingernails, and seemed to be comparing their color to the color of her uniform.

He was startled when she called out. "Hey, Fuzzy? Do you think this color matches my eyes?"

A loud BAMF sounded behind him, and he turned to find himself face to face with a demon. He gulped. The mutant grinned at him, flashing razor-sharp fangs, and then looked past him to the girl.

"Vell, Katz, I'd actually say it matches _me_."

She nodded happily. "Oh, that's good. That way, I can wear it on our date tomorrow and we won't like, totally clash."

He rolled his eyes affectionately and threw a vice-like arm around Trask's shoulders. "Ah, mein beautiful, Katzchen. So much like her mozzer. Whom I haf never met."

Suddenly cool and collected, the girl nodded. "Oh yeah, and be glad you haven't. She's really controlling. Probably plan our honeymoon."

"Speaking of vhich," the young man spoke up. "You, Herr Trask, committed a very grave error somevhere around six months ago vhen you decided zat it vould be a good idea to kidnap mein schwester's husband on zere first night togezzer."

Trask's eyes bulged and for a second, he forgot himself. "Geez! Your sister? Not only do I not even _want _to know how that happened, but what the heck? Are you _all_ related?"

The blue boy replied easily and cheerfully. "Nein, but Mystique and Magsy are acting awfully close lately, und ze firebug and ze vitch are getting married soon- she caught Rogue's bouquet, you know- and also, Katz is like a second daughter to Herr Claws, so it's really just a matter of time." He grinned at Trask in a knowing and rather frightening fashion. He shuddered. Those fangs… yeesh.

* * *

They didn't hurt him, not physically anyway. He was pretty sure spending just a few minutes in the same room as them had permanently scarred his mental facilities for life- or what remained of it anyway. The big guy who came through the door next looked really mad…

Meanwhile…

"Stupid pass code. Stupid fingers. Stupid Trask, aha!"

The door slid open and she stumbled into the room, glancing around frantically.

"Remy? Remy? Oh Lord, Remy!"

She raced to him, dropped to her knees beside him, the logical her in her head telling her that he couldn't be dead, she could feel him through their empathy link; but the crazed lover in her soul screaming in agony at the thought that she might have found him, only just to lose him again.

"Remy? Sugah say somethin', anythin'. C'mon, Swamp Rat, don't you dare dah on me now!"

"Marie?"

The soft groan cut off her mental threats to what was left of Trask's worthless hide and brought her back to her man in a small scream of delight.

"Remy? Oh, glory, Rems, you're okay!"

She hugged him to her, tears streaming down her face. He sagged against her willingly, his own tears of relief mingling with hers.

"Y' came t' get moi, chere?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Uh, yeah! The whole gang's here: Logan, Kurt, Kitty, Wanda. Johnny and Pete were so mad they just about tore down the doors to this place."

"Speakin' o' which…"

"Ah'm with ya there, Sugah. Le's get outta here"

She helped him to his feet, both pleased to discover that he was able to stand. Fast metabolism apparently equaled accelerated healing rate. They stumbled through the hallways together.

"Uh, chere? Trask?"

She rolled her eyes. "If he's still alahve, which Ah doubt, he'll be in the lobby thingy."

* * *

He was unconscious, courtesy of Wanda's most painful hex bolts, and blissfully unaware of what was being done to his precious lobby. Wanda had assured Piotr that he wouldn't be waking up anytime soon.

"Oh yeah, burn, baby!"

Pyro's normal good humor was restored in the aftermath of burning Trask's underwear- while he was wearing it- and he was now happily playing with his fires, burning the couches and desks, and creating little fire-people to dance around Piotr, who was enduring his younger friend's antics with a tolerant smile. Wanda's eyes glowed as she watched her Aussie play. Kurt and Kitty stood wrapped in each other's arms, calmly commenting on the fire, and Logan tried not to laugh at their innocent statements that weren't meant to be funny.

When Rogue helped Remy into the room, the fire abruptly went out, and everyone yelled his name at the same time and rushed them.

"Wow, I feel loved," he said with a smirk. "Miss me?"

* * *

"Rogue moped," Johnny told him irrepressibly as they flew in the X-Jet back to the Institute. "An' Logan was mad all tha toime. An' Oi didn' 'ave anybody ta pick on tha Brotherhood with."

"Roguey moped?"

"Ah did not!"

"Yes you did!" they all insisted together. She scrunched up her face.

"Well, Ah had a reason to."

"Y' certainly did, chere," he whispered in her ear. Through the link, she felt what he was feeling, and a blush began rising in her cheeks.

"Remy LeBeau! Ya jus' got outta that hell-hole you've been in for the past six months, an' _that's _what you're thinkin' about?"

He pouted. "Well, yeah! Remy waited five years fo' dat night, chere, an' den he didn' get t' enjoy it!"

She hugged him. "Ah know, sugah. Ah know. An' once you're all patched up, Ah promise, we're going to have our honeymoon. We'll go back to our house, an' we won't come out until we've thoroughly caught up on the last six months."

"I'll hold y' t' dat, chere," he said smirking.

"'Swhat you think. You'll have to catch me first of course."

"How 'bout I jus' not let y' go?" he replied, wrapping his arms around her.

She grinned and snuggled into him.

"Ah think Ah can handle that."

**

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**

A/N: It's done. It's over. The end.

**1. If you're a Buffy fan, you'll know the significance of this. If you aren't, you won't care anyway.**

**Indy, if you don't mind, I'll be needing the Aussie now.**

_**Fine. **_

**She's sulking.**

_**Indy is not!**_

_***poof***_

_**Thanks, luv. 'Ppreciate ya not leavin' me in another doimension.**_

_**No problem. Now say y' piece an' le's go.**_

_**See ya in tha archoives, kids.**_


End file.
